"Of course, it's cash," cried Adair, "it's going to be that, whatever it is. Only it isn't enough. She's worth more than ten thousand dollars."
Campbell saw that his personal bias had made him err. Adair's vibrating tone had caught the note of his own; suavity and good humor were all-important, and he scurried back to them, like an incautious general flying for the batteries he has left behind. When he spoke again it was in his best lullaby manner.
"My dear fellow," he said, "the real point is that you concede the principle. That is so, is it not?"
"Hell, yes," returned Adair. "I'd concede a lot for fifty thousand dollars."
"But that is a very, very large sum of money."
Adair, with one hand in his trousers pocket, was restlessly turning over the two nickels that were there--all he had.
"I don't think so," he said. "Anyway, she's worth that, and more."
"I was hardly authorized to commit Mr. Ladd to such an amount," objected Mr. Campbell, "though I will not say right off that I might not entertain it. But you understand, Mr. Adair, that it implies you will not resist an action for divorce, and-- Well, you know we'd like to have the matter absolutely settled and done with."
"For fifty thousand dollars?"
The heavy-lidded eyes were obscured by a momentary glaze.